Of Pouting and Pictures
by DarkestAngellic
Summary: Nameless magic has turned Sephiroth into a five year old, for the most part. Whoever believed a conversaion with Genesis while in this form would have been a harmless exchange of words should be shot. Immediately.


**_A/N: __Okay, hi everyone. This is my first fic actually posted up here, though I've written a few short things here and there. As a very brief explanation as to how this idea came about - I roleplay a FFVII character on another website. They found themselves in a situation where Genesis was interacting with a five year old Sephiroth, turned that way by magic from an anonymous person. I created this little ficlet as requested by another anonymous, and now I want to share it with everyone else. So read on, and hopefully you might enjoy. Any feedback is appreciated._**

**_Disclaimer: _****_I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix._**

* * *

Now, any sane person would _know_ not to piss Sephiroth – _the _Sephiroth – off. Even as a five year old – courtesy of unknown magic – Sephiroth was a force to be reckoned with. One glacier glare from those unique eyes would have most people running for the hills.

But Genesis Rhapsodos was _not_ most people and his sanity could be debated (his obsession with Loveless _did _border on unhealthy) hence why the redheaded man was currently running gloved fingers through shorter silver hair, messing it up, completely oblivious to the dark scowl on Sephiroth's finely sculpted features.

Normally Sephiroth could handle having his hair touched by one he considered a friend, but they were in _public_ and he had enough problems with women cooing over him like happy pigeons. He did _not_ need them thinking it was acceptable to play with his hair; and so a small hand came up and batted forcefully at Genesis' gloved fingers. Even though he resembled a child he still had mako in his system. He could still cause pain if and when needed.

"Enough, Genesis." His voice held a slight hint of exasperation, one only those who knew him could detect. Fingers grudgingly removed themselves from his hair, accompanied by . . . was that a pout?

"You have been spending far too much time with Zackary."

"What makes you say that? Angeal's puppy I haven't singed his hair off to get him to shut up. His constant chatter annoys me - I can barely last an hour in his company." For a moment Sephiroth merely stares at him in silence, the phrase '_pot, kettle_' flitting through his head. _Genesis_ was complaining of someone else's chatter? Sephiroth had known the man for years and had yet to find a way to halt his passionate, long-winded speeches regarding Loveless.

". . . You were pouting. Zackary pouts, to great effect against Angeal. Therefor you have been spending too much time with him." For a moment there was silence, blissful, blessed silence, before Genesis let out an indignant squawk akin to that of a chocobo with its tail feathers being pulled.

"I most certainly did _not_ pout, Sephiroth, nor will I ever!"

"You were."

"I was not! I will have you know –" His next words were cut off when freezing cold water hit him in the face and plastered his fiery hair to his skull. Genesis spluttered and spit water from his mouth while Sephiroth watched, seemingly bored. In truth, though, he was internally laughing at the wide-eyed shock on Genesis' face. A simple combination of using fire and ice materia to create the water and the one part of his mind affected by the magic squealed and clapped in childish glee.

"Did you just –"

"Yes."

"And my hair?"

"Yes." Glowing blue eyes narrowed dangerously in response to Sephiroth's calm, cool reply. The General. Had just. Declared. _War_. Before his pint-sized friend could react, Genesis had whipped out his PHS and snapped a picture of his cute little face.

". . ." Sephiroth's own eyes narrowed then and he stepped closer. "What are you doing?"

"I am sure –" ah, there was the number he was looking for – "that your fan club –" _message sending _– "would like to see what you looked like as a child." A ping sounded and he glanced down at the same moment Sephiroth froze in dawning horror.

_Message sent_.

"_Genesis_!"

* * *

Members of the public quickly moved aside as the man in crimson charged down the street, cackling like a madman, with a young silver-haired boy in pursuit and hurling fireballs at him, seemingly aiming for his head.

Or rather, his hair.

Not a day later the picture of five year old Sephiroth appeared on the _Silver Elite's _website.


End file.
